This morning I woke up and felt this nauseating feeling in my stomach. As if my intestines were arguing angrily with the rice I ate the night before - rumbling hard to get the rice the hell off their turf.
And that'd be okay, if it didn't wake me up abruptly at 3 AM - when I hadn't gone to bed until midnight after trying to finish my Chemistry homework. Which by the way, wasn't a successful attempt at all.
There's a quiz tonight on Nomenclature - and I could no more name my stuffed animals when I was younger - much less name ionic and binary compounds. Who am I kidding?
I just keep thinking that if I keep hanging on by this thread - and keep tugging - maybe I'll find the end of the string that leads to the full spool, so I can get my act together. I'm not nervously breaking down or anything, the stress actually helps keep me grounded and centered, in a weird, funky sort of way.
I do hope I can make up for all the points I've lost so far by not being able to complete the damned homework.
Showing posts with label tired. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tired. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Monday, September 10, 2007
Old Post Meets New Post
I found an old college essay that I used to get into San Francisco University.
There's always that fine line...
I spent an hour yesterday, sitting on the fence in the parking lot of McDonald's, holding up the cash from my wallet to see the fine line that goes down the vertical side of the bill. I realized that no one really cared about the line, some people I knew didn't even know it existed, and you couldn't really see it unless you strain your eyes and squint against the sun. That's how racial assimilation began for me. It was this little line that went vertically down my side, and just like on those bills, it was never quite centered, and would change with each new value.
Every year, my values change, call it the wonders of adolescence if you will, or simply - puberty, but they make a distinctive shift in their views, and their importance and perspective. One of the most inconstant values or perceptions I've held have been towards assimilation. My assimilation or rather, my backwards spiral from assimilation to form a new kind of American. I've strayed too far from my original point...you see, like the bill, like that fine line, for so long - since the beginnings of my childhood as a 'banana' or 'white-washed' Korean, that fine line was never seen. It was never sought for either. Because what good is the knowledge of assimilation to a kindergartener who is having difficulty distinguishing the difference between purple and violet, much less the much bigger picture of yellow vs. white, or race vs. race? The line was always there. I didn't begin it, my birthmother didn't begin it, and so on and so forth until we reach the very essence and depth of Asian ancestors. Maybe it doesn't even lay within the contexts of Asian Americans, but rather - Americans in general - from the time that violet became violet, and purple became purple - that is when the fine line was created.
And there it began to singe itself and embalm its symbolism in the small of my back, and soak underneath my skin like an astringent to make the color of my skin go from 'light tan' to 'yellow'. This was the birth of the line. That is how it came to be on the vertical side of my body.
As a young kid, petite, and the smallest of my class, it never occurred to point out that I was different from everyone else. That line was never burning to be seen. Neither were my parents eager to light the candle flame that would show through my transparent childhood years to show that fine line. Therefore, no one cared, no one dared to spend a moment's notice to search for the line, because it didn't seem like it mattered. My value was at about a dollar. But as time wore on, my value changed and rose. And it was only until recently that I sat back and took the time to notice the fine line that had grown more prominent.
What does the fine line stand for? I think it stands for my ability to assimilate from American to Korean culture. As the values have changed, so does the fine line's point, and it is constantly in a battle of moving back and forth, giving more of me into my American side, and then giving more of me into my Korean. It was not until recently that I discovered that, I am still growing, the change is less frequent, and that if I pay close attention, I might even see the fine line hit the middle.
-=PRESENT EDIT=-
It's nearly midnight right now. Just several minutes ago my eyes were giving into the heavy gravity of sleep. The opposite of the complete restlessness that I have been feeling most of these nights recently.
I haven't written in forever it seems like and I miss the ability to exert my frustrations into this blog. I haven't been in one place long enough to sit down and write out what is going on. I finally have time now, and have pushed sleep into the recesses of my mind in order to get out the recent frustrations and confusions that have been occupying my mind.
I find this tremendous solace whenever I get onto the train or the subway headed to DC or VA. Not particularly because of where I am headed (although I love my brother and sister with all of my heart, and enjoy every single minute I spend with them), but the actual moving and travelling is what excites me most. It's what awakens this energy within me, and this sort of peace of mind. I am lulled into a tranquil state of mind with the creaks and whisps of the wind pressing against the train's sides as we dip across stretches of railroads and underneath bridges and through tunnels. So it was only fitting that my cushioned seat pressed against the earliest Saturday morning train is where I found myself in order to escape last week's horrible and stressful craziness.
Let's start back at Tuesday. Something other than the fact that I had just come back from a long, and exciting, and relaxing vacation made it harder to get back to work. One, I had a whole week's worth to catch up with and of course, the week that I was gone was the week that I had a new loan, and two renewals and bunch of other issues that popped up. In addition, there was an audit that we were all preparing for, that most people had that week to start on while I was on vacation. The problem with that? I had chosen that week for the vacation time a looong time before the audit review was scheduled. I had no idea that it was going to be happening around the same time.
Not only that, but with everything that has been happening outside of work: my living situation, my car expenses that are coming up, this alopecia - have been forcing me to really stop and think about everything in my life, and what I have taken for granted and what I haven't really focused on too much: which is taking care of myself first and foremost, and not giving a fuck what other people think about me. A lot of people in my life had always been encouraging this kind of thinking, but I had continued to be a spaz, and worry about every little thing and what people thought.
Then, one Thursday morning, I woke to find my hair filling the tub to the brim, and my life changed in an instant. Sounds tremendously stupid, possibly almost silly if I think about it, but it's honest. I was suddenly faced with the challenge of re-evaluating my thought process about how I was going to keep living my life - what were the most important things to me? What were the things that I needed to start thinking about more than others? Why am I so self-conscious? What is this a sign for? Is it a sign for me to really stop and take the time to really see what is around me and appreciate everything in my life?
Yes, I've decided. Yes it is. And I have been happy in realizing how much love there is in my life. My friends that I have been blessed even through tragedy and dramatic times to have gotten to know and have kept through the years. Family that I never knew I had.
But how do you apply what you have learned in your personal life to the things in your professional? Or are you supposed to keep those completely separate? I have found that to be the hardest task of all: for me to go into work and not cry - not worry about my hair falling out and not to think about it 24-7 and instead worry about how Mr. & Mrs. Moneybags were going to get their advance in on time, or whether I would efficiently advance their loan funds so that they had their money for settlement that they didn't need anyway.
I was brought into my boss' office and told that it is because of my age, because I am so young, that I am not able to separate my personal and business issues. I find it hard to believe that it is just because I am 21 that I am unable to not worry about my shiny bald spots that are showing to the whole world - I am sure that at any age I would still be freaked out - I would still be upset, and I would still find it hard to focus on anything, much less Mr. & Mrs. Moneybags.
So last week I got reprimanded, and told that I am not working up to my "potential". I was cussed at, and I was underminded, and micromanaged (because she said "I feel I have to with you"). The way she speaks with me is completely different from anyone else in that office, and I know that it is because she is always self-conscious of the fact that I am younger than her, and she feels she has the right to demean me in that way. I am at the point where I don't give a shit, and have lost all enthusiasm for the job that I have. I don't find the importance in it anymore, especially with everything else going on in my life. I know that this is partially an extreme way to think - but I don't know how to correllate what is going on in my personal life with the professional... maybe it is my lack of experience. Maybe it is because I have never lost my hair before. Maybe it is because I know no one who ever has. Maybe it is because I am surrounded by people in my workforce who are unable to place themselves in someone else's shoes and still tell me on a daily basis, and also give me looks as I walk by that say, "you're making it all up, it's just because of stress and you need to get over it."
I know I am ranting right now. But I am so frustrated and unable to wrap my mind around this woman that I deal with day in and day out. I hope that something shows a light soon...some sort of path that I should take. In the meantime, I am on my hunt for a new job, and unfortunately, I have a feeling that I am going to have to take a paycut in order to find a new one. Ugh.
When it rains, it pours. Eh?
There's always that fine line...
I spent an hour yesterday, sitting on the fence in the parking lot of McDonald's, holding up the cash from my wallet to see the fine line that goes down the vertical side of the bill. I realized that no one really cared about the line, some people I knew didn't even know it existed, and you couldn't really see it unless you strain your eyes and squint against the sun. That's how racial assimilation began for me. It was this little line that went vertically down my side, and just like on those bills, it was never quite centered, and would change with each new value.
Every year, my values change, call it the wonders of adolescence if you will, or simply - puberty, but they make a distinctive shift in their views, and their importance and perspective. One of the most inconstant values or perceptions I've held have been towards assimilation. My assimilation or rather, my backwards spiral from assimilation to form a new kind of American. I've strayed too far from my original point...you see, like the bill, like that fine line, for so long - since the beginnings of my childhood as a 'banana' or 'white-washed' Korean, that fine line was never seen. It was never sought for either. Because what good is the knowledge of assimilation to a kindergartener who is having difficulty distinguishing the difference between purple and violet, much less the much bigger picture of yellow vs. white, or race vs. race? The line was always there. I didn't begin it, my birthmother didn't begin it, and so on and so forth until we reach the very essence and depth of Asian ancestors. Maybe it doesn't even lay within the contexts of Asian Americans, but rather - Americans in general - from the time that violet became violet, and purple became purple - that is when the fine line was created.
And there it began to singe itself and embalm its symbolism in the small of my back, and soak underneath my skin like an astringent to make the color of my skin go from 'light tan' to 'yellow'. This was the birth of the line. That is how it came to be on the vertical side of my body.
As a young kid, petite, and the smallest of my class, it never occurred to point out that I was different from everyone else. That line was never burning to be seen. Neither were my parents eager to light the candle flame that would show through my transparent childhood years to show that fine line. Therefore, no one cared, no one dared to spend a moment's notice to search for the line, because it didn't seem like it mattered. My value was at about a dollar. But as time wore on, my value changed and rose. And it was only until recently that I sat back and took the time to notice the fine line that had grown more prominent.
What does the fine line stand for? I think it stands for my ability to assimilate from American to Korean culture. As the values have changed, so does the fine line's point, and it is constantly in a battle of moving back and forth, giving more of me into my American side, and then giving more of me into my Korean. It was not until recently that I discovered that, I am still growing, the change is less frequent, and that if I pay close attention, I might even see the fine line hit the middle.
-=PRESENT EDIT=-
It's nearly midnight right now. Just several minutes ago my eyes were giving into the heavy gravity of sleep. The opposite of the complete restlessness that I have been feeling most of these nights recently.
I haven't written in forever it seems like and I miss the ability to exert my frustrations into this blog. I haven't been in one place long enough to sit down and write out what is going on. I finally have time now, and have pushed sleep into the recesses of my mind in order to get out the recent frustrations and confusions that have been occupying my mind.
I find this tremendous solace whenever I get onto the train or the subway headed to DC or VA. Not particularly because of where I am headed (although I love my brother and sister with all of my heart, and enjoy every single minute I spend with them), but the actual moving and travelling is what excites me most. It's what awakens this energy within me, and this sort of peace of mind. I am lulled into a tranquil state of mind with the creaks and whisps of the wind pressing against the train's sides as we dip across stretches of railroads and underneath bridges and through tunnels. So it was only fitting that my cushioned seat pressed against the earliest Saturday morning train is where I found myself in order to escape last week's horrible and stressful craziness.
Let's start back at Tuesday. Something other than the fact that I had just come back from a long, and exciting, and relaxing vacation made it harder to get back to work. One, I had a whole week's worth to catch up with and of course, the week that I was gone was the week that I had a new loan, and two renewals and bunch of other issues that popped up. In addition, there was an audit that we were all preparing for, that most people had that week to start on while I was on vacation. The problem with that? I had chosen that week for the vacation time a looong time before the audit review was scheduled. I had no idea that it was going to be happening around the same time.
Not only that, but with everything that has been happening outside of work: my living situation, my car expenses that are coming up, this alopecia - have been forcing me to really stop and think about everything in my life, and what I have taken for granted and what I haven't really focused on too much: which is taking care of myself first and foremost, and not giving a fuck what other people think about me. A lot of people in my life had always been encouraging this kind of thinking, but I had continued to be a spaz, and worry about every little thing and what people thought.
Then, one Thursday morning, I woke to find my hair filling the tub to the brim, and my life changed in an instant. Sounds tremendously stupid, possibly almost silly if I think about it, but it's honest. I was suddenly faced with the challenge of re-evaluating my thought process about how I was going to keep living my life - what were the most important things to me? What were the things that I needed to start thinking about more than others? Why am I so self-conscious? What is this a sign for? Is it a sign for me to really stop and take the time to really see what is around me and appreciate everything in my life?
Yes, I've decided. Yes it is. And I have been happy in realizing how much love there is in my life. My friends that I have been blessed even through tragedy and dramatic times to have gotten to know and have kept through the years. Family that I never knew I had.
But how do you apply what you have learned in your personal life to the things in your professional? Or are you supposed to keep those completely separate? I have found that to be the hardest task of all: for me to go into work and not cry - not worry about my hair falling out and not to think about it 24-7 and instead worry about how Mr. & Mrs. Moneybags were going to get their advance in on time, or whether I would efficiently advance their loan funds so that they had their money for settlement that they didn't need anyway.
I was brought into my boss' office and told that it is because of my age, because I am so young, that I am not able to separate my personal and business issues. I find it hard to believe that it is just because I am 21 that I am unable to not worry about my shiny bald spots that are showing to the whole world - I am sure that at any age I would still be freaked out - I would still be upset, and I would still find it hard to focus on anything, much less Mr. & Mrs. Moneybags.
So last week I got reprimanded, and told that I am not working up to my "potential". I was cussed at, and I was underminded, and micromanaged (because she said "I feel I have to with you"). The way she speaks with me is completely different from anyone else in that office, and I know that it is because she is always self-conscious of the fact that I am younger than her, and she feels she has the right to demean me in that way. I am at the point where I don't give a shit, and have lost all enthusiasm for the job that I have. I don't find the importance in it anymore, especially with everything else going on in my life. I know that this is partially an extreme way to think - but I don't know how to correllate what is going on in my personal life with the professional... maybe it is my lack of experience. Maybe it is because I have never lost my hair before. Maybe it is because I know no one who ever has. Maybe it is because I am surrounded by people in my workforce who are unable to place themselves in someone else's shoes and still tell me on a daily basis, and also give me looks as I walk by that say, "you're making it all up, it's just because of stress and you need to get over it."
I know I am ranting right now. But I am so frustrated and unable to wrap my mind around this woman that I deal with day in and day out. I hope that something shows a light soon...some sort of path that I should take. In the meantime, I am on my hunt for a new job, and unfortunately, I have a feeling that I am going to have to take a paycut in order to find a new one. Ugh.
When it rains, it pours. Eh?
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Feeling like a greasy side order of egg rolls...
Yesterday was a B-I-T-C-H. Class ran over. Didn't get home till 11. Just stayed over my parents' house since my Mom refuses to drive in the dark, but ended up waking up late because I was sleeping on that damn couch again (from when I used to live there).
Tonight is lab and I have a feeling this class is going to go until 11 as well. Bah. I don't think I am cut out for this continuous lack of sleep/stress. But we'll see.
More later. When I don't have so much bloody work to do.
Tonight is lab and I have a feeling this class is going to go until 11 as well. Bah. I don't think I am cut out for this continuous lack of sleep/stress. But we'll see.
More later. When I don't have so much bloody work to do.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Not any better
My head feels like it's going to explode. I was going to try and work on the Part Two of Day One Virgin Fest post today with the pictures that I emailed myself last night but I am just not in the mood.
I feel so grumpy when my head hurts. And it's only 11:43 AM and I have the rest of the day to go through. I actually brought food to eat today but I don't even feel hungry. I just want to lie my head down come 12 noon and take a nap for about an hour.
Last night, I received a package in the mail. It was from UrbanOutfitters. I started to wonder what I had bought and when the last time I was cracked out was - because I certainly don't remember ordering anything or purchasing anything from UrbanOutfitters. But I decided, what the heck, I was going to open it.
Inside I found three hats. Cute hats, real funky. Not ones that I would normally buy for myself but they are definitely growing on me this morning. There was one that was totally me. It was a grey knit cap, shaped like the army cap kind. I love those. I love the way they look and how they feel. And then there were two more caps. One was red with this funky pattern on it in cream and green and then there was one that was blue striped. I really like them. I am wearing the red one today.
So who is the mysterious hat person? I checked on the invoice and at the bottom it said, "I hope you enjoy the hats, babe. Carlo"
Carlo is Bboy#1. This bboy that I met a while back at Sky Lounge. He has this crush on me - despite the fact that I have been telling him that I am not really the type of person made for a relationship. He's a nice guy. I would randomly run into him whenever I went to Sky Lounge to get something to eat, and the breakdancers would start piling in, and he'd always come over to say hi before going upstairs to the dance floor. I never thought anything of it but lately he's been texting me a lot. Telling me to have a good day. He's a real decent guy, but just not my type.
And now the hats. It's the sweetest gesture ever, it really is. Especially since I recently told him about my alopecia. But he's just not my type. I thanked him for the hats though and a part of me feels like maybe I should send them back.
I feel so grumpy when my head hurts. And it's only 11:43 AM and I have the rest of the day to go through. I actually brought food to eat today but I don't even feel hungry. I just want to lie my head down come 12 noon and take a nap for about an hour.
Last night, I received a package in the mail. It was from UrbanOutfitters. I started to wonder what I had bought and when the last time I was cracked out was - because I certainly don't remember ordering anything or purchasing anything from UrbanOutfitters. But I decided, what the heck, I was going to open it.
Inside I found three hats. Cute hats, real funky. Not ones that I would normally buy for myself but they are definitely growing on me this morning. There was one that was totally me. It was a grey knit cap, shaped like the army cap kind. I love those. I love the way they look and how they feel. And then there were two more caps. One was red with this funky pattern on it in cream and green and then there was one that was blue striped. I really like them. I am wearing the red one today.
So who is the mysterious hat person? I checked on the invoice and at the bottom it said, "I hope you enjoy the hats, babe. Carlo"
Carlo is Bboy#1. This bboy that I met a while back at Sky Lounge. He has this crush on me - despite the fact that I have been telling him that I am not really the type of person made for a relationship. He's a nice guy. I would randomly run into him whenever I went to Sky Lounge to get something to eat, and the breakdancers would start piling in, and he'd always come over to say hi before going upstairs to the dance floor. I never thought anything of it but lately he's been texting me a lot. Telling me to have a good day. He's a real decent guy, but just not my type.
And now the hats. It's the sweetest gesture ever, it really is. Especially since I recently told him about my alopecia. But he's just not my type. I thanked him for the hats though and a part of me feels like maybe I should send them back.
Grrrrrr
I don't know what it is but I feel like total shit today. J just text me back and said he felt the same way. So I know that it isn't the steroid cream or anything making me feel that way (sometimes I get paranoid)
I couldn't sleep last night, I have a stiff neck this morning, a stiff neck last night. A huge headache and a horrible dose of vertigo that started yesterday and still hasn't ended. Now it seems like it's forming into the worst migraine that I have ever had.
I kind of wish that I would just puke or something to make me feel better. Have you ever felt that way? You know - when you feel sooo nauseated that you would rather just vomit it all up then have it holding inside your stomach and tearing your insides? That's how I feel right now. I want to curl up in my bed and just sleep sleep sleep. Sleep this horrible feeling off.
Hopefully I'll make it through the day. Thank God it's Thursday. Jesus.
I couldn't sleep last night, I have a stiff neck this morning, a stiff neck last night. A huge headache and a horrible dose of vertigo that started yesterday and still hasn't ended. Now it seems like it's forming into the worst migraine that I have ever had.
I kind of wish that I would just puke or something to make me feel better. Have you ever felt that way? You know - when you feel sooo nauseated that you would rather just vomit it all up then have it holding inside your stomach and tearing your insides? That's how I feel right now. I want to curl up in my bed and just sleep sleep sleep. Sleep this horrible feeling off.
Hopefully I'll make it through the day. Thank God it's Thursday. Jesus.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Four Walls
I am a homebody type of person. I love to sit on a porch and read a good book, grab a pen and scribble down fast into my journal until the sun comes down. I love to watch movies, documentaries, and am addicted to Dirty Jobs. I geekily flush over board games (I am a kick-ass Jenga player...holla) and am a total sucker for a good intense video game.
But you wouldn't know it if you saw my schedule or counted how many times I have gone out in the past two months. People who don't really know the me inside - who is content with sleeping in on lazy Saturdays, watching the sun come up, kicking back and relaxing with nothing particular to do...would think I am as wild and crazy as Paris Hilton, partying out at all late hours of the night.
I climb into the back of old Camaros, Contours, and Integras or M3s, M5s, and Celicas - music blaring at high decibals, a car full of people ready to go to the club. I, like everyone else in the car, took the time to at least dress halfway decently, put some make-up on, actually blowdry my hair out...
And yet even after all that effort placed in going out, I'd really rather be somewhere else. I would give anything to be anywhere else.
So why do I go out still?
Four walls. That's my answer in just two words. To be quite frank, I have gone quite bonkers. I thought that I could be stronger than that - but cabin fever finally won out.
It's funny how cabin fever, in its utter most crevices of desperation, forces a person to do things that she might not find as entertaining as it should be. I love hanging out with my friends. I adore them, probably in a way that would make me their biggest fan. But in the end I feel like I end up standing in a corner, sitting in a corner, or in some arbitrary hide out section of the club, bobbing my head with my arms across my chest (yes, I am THAT gangsta.) I do dance, and yes, I love to dance, but I am just as content dancing in front of myself in the mirror in my Paul Frank pjs as anyone else would be dancing in front of the DJ booth at a PvD show.
I think this is a phase that everyone hits - and I just think that I hit that phase at an earlier time in my life. I am like that with everything - I am so premature with my phases. I had my identity crisis from 10-13. And now I have reached the point in my life, at the ripe age of 21 years - not even finished my first year of fully being able to legally drink - already done with partying, drinking and clubbing.
I seriously cannot explain to you how much fun I had playing with Ryder and watching Backyardigans. I had a blast. Almost more fun than he did.
It's just frustrating for me because these four walls of my room are closing in on me. I feel suffocated all the time in that room - and yet it's my only sanctuary. It's the only place in the house that I feel comfortable and away from the tension. It was something and is something that I am so proud of myself for creating ...I pulled the carpet, washed the wood floors down, scrubbed the window sills, did all the painting by myself, bought all the furniture for myself...everything. But after a while, staring at the same four walls and watching reruns on TV only tides you over for so long. I am a homebody by nature - but it's killing me when I am being cornered into being a homebody. I have no choice. No ride, no ability to get where I want or need to go. And the walls seem to get smaller and smaller whenever I come home from work.
I know that it's only a matter of time before everything pans out and comes to fruition. But for the time being, like I said, I am going bonkers. I feel like I am beneath a heated blanket, and it's 98 degrees all around the outside. It feels like this never ending swelter of heat, and frustration, and tension. Not between anyone and myself...just me, myself and I.
So I end with this song:
Right now I feel like a bird
Caged without a key.
And everyone comes to stare at me
with so much joy and reverie.
They don't know how I feel inside.
Through my smile, I cry.
They don't know what they're doing to me.
Keeping me from flying...
That's why I say that
I know why the caged bird sings
her only joy comes from song.
And she's so rare and beautiful to others.
Why not just set her free?
So she can fly, fly, fly...
Spreading her wings and her song.
Let her fly, fly, fly...
For the whole world to see.
She's like a caged bird...
Fly, fly, fly..
Ooo, just let her fly, just let her fly.
Spread wings, spread beauty.
But you wouldn't know it if you saw my schedule or counted how many times I have gone out in the past two months. People who don't really know the me inside - who is content with sleeping in on lazy Saturdays, watching the sun come up, kicking back and relaxing with nothing particular to do...would think I am as wild and crazy as Paris Hilton, partying out at all late hours of the night.
I climb into the back of old Camaros, Contours, and Integras or M3s, M5s, and Celicas - music blaring at high decibals, a car full of people ready to go to the club. I, like everyone else in the car, took the time to at least dress halfway decently, put some make-up on, actually blowdry my hair out...
And yet even after all that effort placed in going out, I'd really rather be somewhere else. I would give anything to be anywhere else.
So why do I go out still?
Four walls. That's my answer in just two words. To be quite frank, I have gone quite bonkers. I thought that I could be stronger than that - but cabin fever finally won out.
It's funny how cabin fever, in its utter most crevices of desperation, forces a person to do things that she might not find as entertaining as it should be. I love hanging out with my friends. I adore them, probably in a way that would make me their biggest fan. But in the end I feel like I end up standing in a corner, sitting in a corner, or in some arbitrary hide out section of the club, bobbing my head with my arms across my chest (yes, I am THAT gangsta.) I do dance, and yes, I love to dance, but I am just as content dancing in front of myself in the mirror in my Paul Frank pjs as anyone else would be dancing in front of the DJ booth at a PvD show.
I think this is a phase that everyone hits - and I just think that I hit that phase at an earlier time in my life. I am like that with everything - I am so premature with my phases. I had my identity crisis from 10-13. And now I have reached the point in my life, at the ripe age of 21 years - not even finished my first year of fully being able to legally drink - already done with partying, drinking and clubbing.
I seriously cannot explain to you how much fun I had playing with Ryder and watching Backyardigans. I had a blast. Almost more fun than he did.
It's just frustrating for me because these four walls of my room are closing in on me. I feel suffocated all the time in that room - and yet it's my only sanctuary. It's the only place in the house that I feel comfortable and away from the tension. It was something and is something that I am so proud of myself for creating ...I pulled the carpet, washed the wood floors down, scrubbed the window sills, did all the painting by myself, bought all the furniture for myself...everything. But after a while, staring at the same four walls and watching reruns on TV only tides you over for so long. I am a homebody by nature - but it's killing me when I am being cornered into being a homebody. I have no choice. No ride, no ability to get where I want or need to go. And the walls seem to get smaller and smaller whenever I come home from work.
I know that it's only a matter of time before everything pans out and comes to fruition. But for the time being, like I said, I am going bonkers. I feel like I am beneath a heated blanket, and it's 98 degrees all around the outside. It feels like this never ending swelter of heat, and frustration, and tension. Not between anyone and myself...just me, myself and I.
So I end with this song:
Right now I feel like a bird
Caged without a key.
And everyone comes to stare at me
with so much joy and reverie.
They don't know how I feel inside.
Through my smile, I cry.
They don't know what they're doing to me.
Keeping me from flying...
That's why I say that
I know why the caged bird sings
her only joy comes from song.
And she's so rare and beautiful to others.
Why not just set her free?
So she can fly, fly, fly...
Spreading her wings and her song.
Let her fly, fly, fly...
For the whole world to see.
She's like a caged bird...
Fly, fly, fly..
Ooo, just let her fly, just let her fly.
Spread wings, spread beauty.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Back from my mini-vacation...
and I wish I were back on it again. It was a ton of fun, and just really relaxed. I feel bad that the hotel I had reserved was a couple blocks away from the boardwalk but it was still kind of fun. Good (and crazy) memories to be kept.
I can't help but feel different after this trip though. It's amazing how one weekend can really change how you feel about everything, and how you view your life. Totally changes perspective. I definitely know that I am on the right path for myself, finally - trying to make things work better for me. As opposed to making it better for everyone else.
So this week I am kicking it into high gear. I haven't heard anything back from my school yet about my loan information, and school year is just around the corner. I am planning on placing a call into the office this morning to figure out what the hell is going on.
And to give DORS a call, too. Make sure that my name was placed on that 6-8 week waiting list and whether or not I'll hear anything anytime soon.
Other than that, there is definitely a whole lot more that I would like to tell you all about the trip. I feel bad that this post isn't doing my vacation time any justice - but I am at work, and sadly, still have a lot of shit to do.
Hmm...but seems I haven't been the only busy one - yet another baby was welcomed into the world (Congrats again to A & K!), and more crazy geeks joined the iPhone craze (TL & Seed, oh, & Ono, too!)
I can't help but feel different after this trip though. It's amazing how one weekend can really change how you feel about everything, and how you view your life. Totally changes perspective. I definitely know that I am on the right path for myself, finally - trying to make things work better for me. As opposed to making it better for everyone else.
So this week I am kicking it into high gear. I haven't heard anything back from my school yet about my loan information, and school year is just around the corner. I am planning on placing a call into the office this morning to figure out what the hell is going on.
And to give DORS a call, too. Make sure that my name was placed on that 6-8 week waiting list and whether or not I'll hear anything anytime soon.
Other than that, there is definitely a whole lot more that I would like to tell you all about the trip. I feel bad that this post isn't doing my vacation time any justice - but I am at work, and sadly, still have a lot of shit to do.
Hmm...but seems I haven't been the only busy one - yet another baby was welcomed into the world (Congrats again to A & K!), and more crazy geeks joined the iPhone craze (TL & Seed, oh, & Ono, too!)
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